♛Merci for the love from France, I can always use a few extra kisses from that country *smiles*
Viktor sent a card. I should be grateful. But it was most likely from Rose, and he merely signed it along with her, as it had an inside joke between Rose and I. Best father in the world? I think my second – fourth fledglings would beg to differ.
//ooc; mun doesn’t entirely accept PL as canon, but was willing to accept it for this ask 😉
For headcanons and to talk to a Viktor RPer, go to @viktor-de-lioncourt (who uses Jordan Sörbom as a FC) or @roselioncourt, both of whom care quite a lot more than I do about this character.
♛ Dear anon – this is a painful question… when I reflect on my own parenting, I have to compare myself to my father. Certain things were, unfortunately, passed down. Even as I tried to be the father he couldn’t be. Interestingly, he had told me little of our family’s origins, for his own reasons, and I had to hold back alot of similar information from my “children.” In my case, however, it was for their own safety. And sanity. Never made that comparison before.
Father’s Day as we know it didn’t exist when they were alive…
♛Mon bijou, merci. The only one of my darlings to send me a Father’s Day message.
Though you’re no longer this small, the sentiment remains the same. I’m still bigger and stronger than you and I demand hugs from my children! Please come visit and deliver your requisite services *grins*
♛ Mon bijou, on those darker nights when I feel more alone than ever, I often close my eyes, and imagine you near, nestled against Louis and I as he reads us one of your favorite stories. You were always as much mine as his, and we both belonged to you. Was it fate that led him to find you? Was it fate that forced me with burning purpose to keep you with us? I remember your scent – lavender, white gardenia, and chrysanthemums. Spring captured and reformed into the perfect little girl. We love you still.
♛ Dear anon – this is a painful question… when I reflect on my own parenting, I have to compare myself to my father. Certain things were, unfortunately, passed down. Even as I tried to be the father he couldn’t be. Interestingly, he had told me little of our family’s origins, for his own reasons, and I had to hold back alot of similar information from my “children.” In my case, however, it was for their own safety. And sanity. Never made that comparison before.
Father’s Day as we know it didn’t exist when they were alive…
Of course, Claudia and I would have special occasions at the slightest excuse, so we did share many nights in celebration of our bond as father and daughter, with and without Louis’ involvement. There were some things he just wouldn’t do!
One such night might include riding out on horseback to the old plantation, she loved the closeness of being held tight to me, the rush of the speed of the animal. We would pretend it was a haunted house, and would hunt for ghosts. I might hire performers in different rooms to play out a story for her. She knew it was an act, but she loved it anyway.
Dinner together, of course. Watching her play with her food was always entertaining, especially when she would look back at me, see that I was proud of her, and then grin wide enough to show her beautiful little fangs!
When I reflect on my father, I see him as mostly an angry presence… it seemed that there was little I could offer him to earn his affection. Even when I provided well for our family (and I use the term “family” loosely here), the most I could ever get from him was a grunt of disappointment in how long it had taken me to do it. One couldn’t simply waltz into a supermarket and just pick up a few packs of prepared meats, I had to chase these things down! With tactics! And weapons!
When we were together at Pointe du Lac, my father had mellowed somewhat by age and infirmity, and we did spend some pleasant evenings together. His hands trembled when we played chess. Those same hands that had struck me countless times for the most minor infractions; it seemed my whole body was allergic to them, even in my altered state. He wanted the comfort of touch in his blindness… but I could only bear to hold his hands in mine a few times. Fortunately, Louis’ family was kind to him, and they brought out a side of him that I hadn’t seen before. He spent hours listening to Louis’ sister play the spinet. She had lost a father, he had never really had a daughter, I was grateful to her for whatever bond they formed between them.
ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS UP AT 3AM BOTTLE FEEDING THE BABY
ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS FALLING ASLEEP WITH THE BABY IN THEIR ARMS BECAUSE NEITHER HAVE SLEPT ALL NIGHT
ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS MAKING FACES AT THEIR BABY TO MAKE THEM LAUGH
ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS GIVING PIGGYBACK RIDES
ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS AS FATHERS
“One night, long gone by, was as material to me as if I were in it still, but I didn’t tell her. She was desperate in that night, running away from Lestat, who had urged her to kill a woman in the street from whom she’d backed off, clearly alarmed. I was sure the woman had resembled her mother. Finally she’d escaped us entirely, but I’d found her in the armoire, beneath the jackets and coats, clinging to her doll. And, carrying her to her crib, I sat beside her and sang to her, and she stared at me as she clung to that doll, as if trying blindly and mysteriously to calm a pain she herself did not begin to understand. Can you picture it, this splendid domesticity, dim lamps, the vampire father singing to the vampire daughter? Only the doll had a human face, only the doll.” – Louis de Pointe du Lac, Interview with the Vampire
I-want-my-IWTV 